


Other Than Love

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Attachment does not equal love in this fic, Brief Suicidal Intent, F/M, Gen, Horror, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incubus Obi-Wan, Jedi Culture Respected, M/M, Murder, Other, Self-Hatred, Unhappy Ending, cliffhanger ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 01:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14802081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Obi-Wan is an incubus. He has walked a precarious tightrope all his life, careful not to harm the people around him.He's always been so prepared against accidents, but the pirates who have kidnapped him have no idea what bad timing they have.





	Other Than Love

**Author's Note:**

> “Phoenix” has gotten completely out of hand.
> 
> Have something that “Phoenix” is refusing to be.

 

“Please,” Obi-Wan panted, his alarm flooding the Force around him, “you don't understand. I don't want to kill you!”

The pirates chuckled, clearly finding his distress amusing, and went back to their card game.

Obi-Wan curled up in a far corner of the cell, wrapping his arms tight around his head.

He would keep it in. He would hold out. No one deserved to die like that, not even these vile kidnappers. Prison, yes, but _not death—_

Not—

He was so hungry, the burning emptiness inside consuming his ability to think.

Not for the first time, he hated what he was. The horrific _thing_ he'd been born as.

He felt something breaking inside.

The pirates had but seconds left, and Obi-Wan couldn't find the strength to even whisper one last warning.

 

* * *

 

Rex stepped into the brig of the pirate's ship, something in his stomach turning cold, and prickles running down his back. Something  _wrong_ had happened here.

He looked to his Jedi, saw Skywalker looked on edge and alarmed.

Strange that even the vode could sense it. Normally evil couldn't be felt except by those attuned to the Force.

They walked through the silent bay, saw two figures lying on the ground.

Rex bit back an oath behind his helmet as he saw them partially undressed, as if in great hurry, signs of rough sex— not only their entrances, their dicks seemed rubbed near raw too, though they seemed to have orgasmed from it anyway, if the mess was any indication—

But worst were the empty, glassy eyes staring off at nothing, the sheer terror in their faces.

Skywalker's shoulders sagged, and as Rex turned his head to see, he found his Jedi's face crumpling in sorrow.

_Why? They're pirates who kidnapped your brother. Why would you look so heartbroken?_

“Leave them,” Skywalker directed. “Follow me, be careful, do not split up.”

So he knew, then. Knew what had happened to these poor bastards.

_And isn't sure we're safe. Nice. But where is General Kenobi, if he's not locked in a cage?_

As they followed the halls heading for the bridge, they found scattered bodies. All of them looked well-fripped and utterly horrified.

It unnerved Rex in a way that mutilated corpses on a battlefield couldn't.

The whole ship stank of sex, but when they stepped into the cockpit, it was worse.

The fluids here hadn't even dried yet.

Rex's grip on his holstered blaster tightened as his gaze swept the room.

There.

Skywalker approached the huddled figure with great caution, his saber on his belt, his hand out in a calming gesture. “Obi-Wan?”  
Dear Force, had whoever responsible for this hurt their  _Jedi too—_ ? If so, Rex was going to—

A head rolled up and eyes found Skywalker's. Eyes in which every blood vessel seemed ruptured. His hair was tangled and stained, there were bruises on his face.

And in his hands was clutched a knife, the blade of which rested precariously close to his heart.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin repeated, his voice not quite steady, his fear obvious. “Give me the knife. Please.”

The older Jedi didn't seem to hear him.

“Obi-Wan.  _Please._ ”

Skywalker kept edging closer until he crouched down and closed his fingers over the hilt of the blade, dislodging it from Kenobi's grasp and holding it out behind him. Tup quickly took it, gripping it tight as if afraid Kenobi might try to use the Force to tear it back.

It was only then that Rex realized Kenobi's pants were open. He averted his gaze, worried, so worried— what would Cody say one he knew his General had been molested? Could Cody  _handle_ it?

“Stand up,” Anakin murmured, reaching out to touch Obi-Wan's shoulder.

The other flinched away. “Don't,” he choked out.

“You can't hurt me, Master,” Anakin whispered. “You're not hungry anymore.”

A low wail escaped Kenobi.

“Let's get you out of here,” Skywalker crooned, helping the other man to his feet. “Can you close your leggings?”

Kenobi stared down at himself, and a low sob ripped through him as he fumbled with the fastenings to tuck himself away. “Qui-Gon was right,” he whimpered. “He was right. They should have put me down. They should have—”

A tear slipped from Skywalker's eye. “No. Come on. Let's go. I've got you.”

The trip back to the  _Twilight_ was silent, except for the stumbling steps of Kenobi, and Skywalker's murmured, “Don't look at them, look at me. Don't look, Obi-Wan.”

 

* * *

 

Anakin turned away to give Obi-Wan some space while the other stood in the shower, trying to rid himself of the stench of death with its undercurrent of sex, but he feared to leave the room entirely.

_If only I'd gotten to him sooner._

He'd never seen Obi-Wan this fragile, though it had come close back when his master first manifested. Two years after Qui-Gon's death and Anakin becoming his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi's incubus heritage announced itself.

There had been Jedi in and out of their rooms at that time, trying to soothe his panic and terror. Anakin had to live with Bant for a while, only coming to see Obi-Wan while under supervision.

_Then_ his master's eyes had seemed hollow.

But even at that terrible time of transition, he'd still managed to find small smiles for Anakin, to whisper that it would be alright. That they'd been planning for this ever since the Order took in a baby that had nearly been murdered by its parents once they realized what he was.

Anakin rubbed the back of his neck with his mech hand.

Obi-Wan hadn't killed before.

_Can he survive it?_

Anakin didn't know.

 

* * *

 

A sentient's life was a fragile thing. Drink too much of it, and they died, even if you hadn't stolen it all. They just weren't capable of healing from such a drain.

Trained Force sensitives could endure some draining, and recover from it relatively quickly if it didn't run unchecked for too long.

When Knight Kenobi began to feel hungry for the first time in his life, steps were immediately taken to keep his heart and the lives of those around him safe.

Jedi who had volunteered and been ready for this for years closeted themselves with him, making sure to divert his attention from one to the next until the madness passed, leaving all of them exhausted and needing to sleep for a solid day, but none  _dead._

It had become not a comfortable thing, this desperation once every several months, but it had become familiar. Obi-Wan had eventually lost his shame over the fact that it was the only way to keep him from succumbing to his nature and killing while he fed.

Quinlan Vos even had a manic look in his eye that suggested he might actually enjoy the frenzied coupling combined with losing quite a bit of his life energy. A form of symbiosis could be found, it seemed, for even the most unlikely of creatures.

It might never have been pleasant for any but Vos, but Obi-Wan's partners had always given informed consent. Lasting harm had never been inflicted on them. Obi-Wan wasn't at all comfortable with the fact that at regular intervals he would awaken to find naked Jedi sprawled around his room, sleeping so deeply they almost appeared comatose. Obi-Wan's personality did not lean in the direction of appreciating orgies.

It felt uncivilized and _animistic,_ and Obi-Wan wanted so desperately to be human.

But as his fellow Jedi didn't turn from him in disgust— not the ones he... fripped, and not the ones who simply _knew—_ and his padawan still cuddled close to him in the safe months, he'd come to accept his fate. His brothers and sisters understood. His partners smiled when they saw him in the hallways and doted on his padawan. His padawan felt no fear in his presence, and loved him with all his little heart.

It had been enough, in spite of the scars he bore from his parents' attempts to murder him with a frying pan. In spite of Qui-Gon Jinn's initial...

But Obi-Wan couldn't think of that, even now. _Especially_ now. The man had relented, and _look where it had gotten them._

Obi-Wan didn't even know how many outlaws had been on that ship, but  _not one of them survived._

How could Anakin  _look_ at him now? Knowing he'd— he'd—

But it wasn't  _just_ murder, now,  _was_ it? He'd raped them too. Oh, they'd gone to him willingly. Vos reported that when the moment hit, Obi-Wan seemed to become a loadstone, a magnet that dragged you in until you couldn't think of anything else, and  _all you wanted_ was to be claimed by him and find release.

For the pirates, it was only after the frantic sex, when they began to feel the very life being torn from their grasp, that they realized this wasn't what they wanted. When the tears started. When the begging would have started if they could have found the breath to—

Obi-Wan curled forward, a low moan of despair escaping him.

_I never wanted to hurt anyone._

Qui-Gon had stared at a twelve-year-old boy and told him it wouldn't matter, in the end. The wanting would mean nothing.

_He was right._

_I thought with Jedi training I could develop the discipline to control it._

_“I certainly will not train you. You should be put down, before it's too late. The Council has made a mistake in letting you live.”_ The words  _still_ hurt, even after Qui-Gon had taken them back and taken him in and nurtured him for over a decade—

“Obi-Wan, the water's going cold. I've got a towel. Come on out.”  
He obeyed and hid behind the towel, unable to look at his padawan.

Anakin. Who had stood by him and believed in him.

_And I have proved false your every faith._

Obi-Wan tried to blink back tears as Anakin slipped from the room to obtain clothing.

Obi-Wan dried his face and peered into the mirror.

_Look at that. A rapist and a murderer._

The exact people he caught for a living, to turn them over for trial and sentencing.

Anakin placed clothes on the counter, then left again without a word.

_Last time I wear brown? Soon it will be orange._

Soon it would be orange, and he'd be locked away in some secure little cell, never to be approached again. No guards could watch him. The hunger would return, and he would flail against the walls, fight to get  _out—_

Oh. They would have to use Force suppression. Years of hunger, without his mind surfacing to reason, he might Fall. Might explode his way out of the containment facility, murder a swath through whoever might be nearby. They would need to deprive him of the Force to prevent against such a future.

Obi-Wan trembled as he finished drying off and pulling on his clothes.

A lifetime alone. A lifetime cut off from the Force.

A lifetime...  _mad._

Anakin would probably ask him to hide what he'd done. Might have already cleared away any evidence, and sworn his clones to secrecy.

_But I cannot live that way._

They would get back, and Obi-Wan would turn himself in, and submit to whatever sentence was set for him.

It couldn't erase his guilt.

But at least he wouldn't be walking away scott-free.

 

* * *

 

“My general is a  _what_ ?”  
Skywalker had explained to Rex and those who had... seen... what Kenobi was. He commanded them to keep it quiet.

As far as Rex was concerned, keeping quiet included informing Kenobi's Commander why his general was currently unavailable.

Tup held out a datapad of research.

Skywalker had just given a word. The clones hadn't even known what the damn word meant until they looked it up.

Cody read the files, expression confused and concerned.

“I don't understand,” he finally spoke, looking up to find Rex's eyes. “Why does it matter? They were just pirates, right? Nobody's going to miss them.”  
Rex shrugged helplessly. “And maybe if they died in saber combat, your general would feel differently.”

Cody couldn't quite look at the holo Tup had surreptitiously taken of the corpses before Skywalker blew the entire ship to tiny atoms.

“He hates himself,” the commander surmised in a whisper.

The truth of it made a sinking feeling in Rex's gut.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan sank to his knees in the Council chamber.

He could sense stunned confusion, and yes, fear—

Just not fear of  _him._

He placed his saber on the floor in front of him.

A choked noise came from Anakin, standing beside him. Always beside him. Always.

Soon... never again.

“Masters. I hereby recognize that I have forfeited the right to be a Jedi. I surrender my lightsaber, and I will submit to whatever measures the Council deems best in light of my crimes.

“I am guilty of the rapes and murders of at least seven sentient beings. That's all the corpses I could see as I was escorted from the scene. Knight Skywalker may have a more accurate count.”

Obi-Wan's bowed head drooped still further down.

_May Qui-Gon forgive me._

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka paced outside the Council chamber.

No one was willing to tell her  _anything._

Her master emerged, white-faced and shaking.

“What's happening?” the padawan demanded.

It took a moment before Anakin seemed to really  _see_ her. “Obi-Wan did something, and it's not his fault. But because it was a crime against Republic citizens—”

“But if it's not his fault—”

“A Republic jury is not going to see it that way. They'll hand him over to scientists to be studied, or they'll  _kill him,_ Ahsoka.”

“Can't we...  _hide_ it?” Ahsoka asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“I  _did._ I got rid of all the evidence, but he's intent on paying for what he thinks is a crime.”

“What did he do?”

Anakin's gaze skittered away. “He hurt some bad people.”

“Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka protested. “But we do that all the time!”  
“...Not like this, Ahsoka.” And there was something grieved and despairing in his voice as he said it that chilled her to the bone.

 

* * *  
  


If they didn't do something, Obi-Wan was going to crash a Senate meeting and confess to the universe on a live holofeed.

So Mace managed to gather together a stern tone, took the offered lightsaber, and said Obi-Wan would be escorted by Temple Guards to a cell and would remain there while the Council deliberated.

A look of almost relief washed across the ghastly pale face, and Obi-Wan rose, turning to meet the masked guardians who came for him. He held out his wrists to them, and Mace gave them a nod because if he chose to, Obi-Wan Kenobi could walk right out of this Temple and sign away his life and liberty, and no one here would be able to stop him.

With Kenobi gone, Skywalker returned, almost brokenly frantic.

The yelling stopped when Fisto asked, voice quiet, “Can you keep him here, Skywalker?”

Fear and helplessness filled Skywalker's face and he fell silent.

“He will do what he feels is right, and there will be no stopping him,” Shaak Ti warned.

“You— you don't think he should be—?” Skywalker seemed both stunned and relieved.

“Because we went along with him, he's still  _here,_ ” Windu pointed out. “ _Continuing_ to keep him from throwing himself on the Republic's knives is going to be a lot harder.”

The boy ran a shaking hand down his face. “Can't you order him?”

“He nearly left the Order to train you, right after Qui-Gon died. He is entirely willing to disregard us if he feels it to be the right thing to do.” Windu shook his head.

Skywalker's eyes bugged and his lips parted in shock.

“If you try to undermine his moral compass, he's going to resist it,” Adi Gallia warned. “You try to tell him that he's a good man and that his life shouldn't be wrecked for one mistake, and he will stop listening to you entirely.”

“But it's true,” Skywalker muttered.

Gallia shook her head. “He has a strong sense of justice, Skywalker. His soul will demand some form of atonement to be made, and only  _after_ that can you convince him to forgive himself. He doesn't share your willingness to waive justice for those close to him.”

“What is  _that_ supposed to mean?” Skywalker snapped.

Windu held up his hand to try to forestall another argument. “Kenobi could do anything, and you would still think he didn't belong in a trial, and certainly not in a prison. You are very loyal, Skywalker, and very forgiving. But remember that a strong sense of impartial justice is part of who your former master is as a person. You'll either respect it, or he will pursue it on his  _own,_ probably without telling you first.”

There. The alarm chasing away the determination to take insult.

Force knew he wasn't here to be reprimanded for his own sliding-scale morals. The Council really didn't give a damn, given the magnitude of disaster poised to strike, much as Anakin loved to make everything about himself.

“Ideas?” Windu prompted, and Skywalker looked lost. “To satisfy his need for atonement without turning himself over to the Republic?”

“We can't prove they were Republic citizens. And hell, they're pirates, so there's a decent chance they're from Hutt Space,” Anakin offered. “And while Obi-Wan might think killing them is a crime against the Force, killing  _non Republic_ citizens in territory that doesn't belong to the Republic isn't actually a crime.” Anakin scowled even as he finished his sentence, sighed, then added, “But he'll never go for it. He'll assume they were Republic citizens, or assume they deserve the benefit of the doubt.”

 

* * *

 

The door closing and locking behind him relieved Obi-Wan's anguish for a moment, allowing him to breathe.

The relief only lasted that one moment before horror came seeping back to fill his bones, tremble in his hands, scream in his head.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered to the Qui-Gon Jinn who would never hear him again. To the once living, breathing beings he had brutalized.

To his brother, who would try to stand by him to the end.

_You need to let me burn for this. I_ must  _burn for this._

Obi-Wan curled up on the floor in despair and to wait.

 


End file.
